


An Oath in Kind

by RunaLiore



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Gallows Humor, Kissing, Love Confessions, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-14 18:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunaLiore/pseuds/RunaLiore
Summary: In a single morning, Queen Galena lost her crown, her title, and a great deal of blood. Now hunted as a monstrous fiend in her former kingdom, she has only a single loyal knight by her side. While Claire is more than eager and willing to help Galena survive and flee the country, Galena finds herself wanting far more than Claire's loyalty. The longer Claire stands at her side, the more often she carries Galena in her arms, and the more they speak each other's names, the harder it becomes for Galena to deny her own wishes. Is it truly fair, though, to wish for the affections of one who is sworn and honor-bound to never leave your side, regardless of their own feelings?





	An Oath in Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



> Spoilers: Their feelings are 100% mutual and there's a lot of pining. 
> 
> Written as part of Femslash Exchange 2018 for The_Plaid_Slytherin, based on the request "Original work - Dethroned and Dishonored Queen/Lone Loyal Female Knight."
> 
> To my recipient: I tried to include as many of your requested tags as possible since most of them are some of my favorite tags as well, so I hope you enjoy! I wasn't able to include daemons unfortunately, but there are demons! (which is an absolutely different thing altogether lol)
> 
> Thank you to both of my wonderful beta readers, Izilen and Viviolo <3 The quality of this work is in large part thanks to their advice (unless you think it's bad, then that's all on me) 
> 
> I had a lot of fun pulling this story together and I may have gotten a bit carried away, so I hope everyone reading this enjoys it!

_ Please be here. Please be alive! _

Brambles cracked under Clarie’s feet as she ran through the forest hollow, skidding down the mud-slicked slopes and stumbling over twisting roots. She didn’t have the luxury of care and caution, though even if she did she wouldn’t have slowed her pace. Her every thought and breath was honed to a single point all focused on one single desire. Dirt caked the joints in her greaves and her tabard tore against a knot of thorns, and even as her legs and lungs screamed for rest she pressed herself further.

_ Your Majesty, please be alive! Please be- _

There, at the bottom of the hollow beside a slow trickling stream, Claire saw the shape of a body in the mud. The rest of the forest faded from sight and  and before she noticed her own legs moving, she was already kneeling down into the dirt.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, please open your eyes!”

Claire lifted the woman from the dirt, holding her back and brushing the leaves and mud from her face. The woman groaned and coughed faintly, her arms and neck still limp.

“C-claire?” She blinked and tried to move, but the three arrows in her side caught against the ground and she winced from the pain.

“Your Majesty, you’re alive!” Claire stared at her Queen, awash in relief and terror and a sudden wave of giddy nerves. Her Majesty wheezed.

“...I’m alive?”

Tears gathered at the edge of Claire’s eyes as she held her Queen tenderly.

“Yes, you're alive!”

The Queen groaned again. “...Damn it.”

She tried again to sit upright but one of the arrows in her side scraped against a rib and she nearly fell from Clariette’s arms. She was still warm, though her hands were already cool to the touch as Claire lifted her up and began moving slowly through the wood.

“Please try to stay still, Your Majesty. There’s a river nearby, I think. I’ll need to wash your wounds before we can move much further.”

The Queen was silent, staring off through the canopy as she took in shallow breaths. Claire watched the ground and stepped carefully, keeping her body as steady as possible so that the Queen didn’t jostle or shift in her arms. As she navigated the underbrush, Claire stole a glimpse of her Queen’s face-she looked weathered and drained, a splash of blood mixed with the dirt on her skin. Claire nearly tripped over a tall root and she ground to a halt, adjusting her grip to keep her Queen close. That was when she noticed the small, knobby points jutting out of the Queen’s forehead. Claire nearly panicked.

Without thinking, Claire reached for the Queen’s face and brushed her hair aside, thinking an arrow or stone might have pierced her skull. Instead, she found the skin unbroken, along with two small, slightly curling horns. When Claire looked more closely, she noticed smooth, flat scales covering nearly half the Queen’s neck and spreading across her back and shoulders. They were the telltale signs of a creature distinctly inhuman, things that Claire had only heard of in tavern songs or stories told by the fireside. The Queen’s face had not changed, though, and her voice was still familiar even if strained and coarse-Claire committed Her Majesty’s new appearance to heart and held her close.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster,” Claire said, climbing a mossy slope toward the sound of rushing water, “had I arrived sooner, Your Majesty-”

“Galena.” The Queen’s voice creaked out like a strained whisper, “Just call me Galena. I’m no one’s Majesty anymore.”

“No,” Claire looked down at Galena with a soft and pensive smile, “You are still my Queen, regardless of all else that might happen.”

Galena groaned again and scowled, or at least Claire thought she might have-the whole of Galena’s face was smeared in dirt and blood and soot and her eyes glistened like jet. She flailed for a moment and her fist fell against Claire’s chest, but after that exertion her grip failed her and she fell almost limp. She grumbled quietly and Claire fought to hide her relief as she carried Galena through the wood.

The forests of Camaraou sat low along the plains and between the highland hills, though not so low that they escaped the sight of the palace towers. As she shifted in Clair’s arms, Galena caught glimpses of the dark stone of the palace through the canopy. Until one month ago, Galena had paced the narrow chambers of the East Tower, confined there for three years after speaking out against her father’s bloodshed. Until earlier that morning, she had spent her days on the throne trying to repair the carnage he had wrought— but three arrows and an angry mob had a way of derailing even the most carefully laid plans.

As Claire reached the river’s edge, she knelt slowly and lowered Galena’s feet into the water. She traced the arrows to their wounds, dried blood splattered across each shaft and all three with the distinctive fletching of the Queen’s royal guard. Claire moved her hands to Galena’s collar and then held them there, hovering over the clasp of her shift.

“Your Majesty, may I be permitted—”

Galena sighed.

“I apologize,” Claire said as she began peeling the once-green silk from Galena’s shoulders. “I may need to pull the seams from your dress in order to-”

“Just cut it.” Galena groaned. “Cut it off.”

“I-” Claire glanced away for a moment as if she was looking for the mental fortitude to form a response. Eventually she agreed, with her dagger in hand and a great deal of hesitation in her voice. She worked delicately and without delay, slicing what was left of Galena’s shift and surcoat from her body and leaving small scraps around each wound where the blood had already dried. The more she peeled away, the longer Claire lingered over the cuts and wounds across Galena’s body, her fingers pausing each time they brushed her skin or the scales along her side…

“Your Majesty, I promise I’ll fetch a new dress for you as soon as we remove these arrows.”

Galena rolled her head aside and wheezed. She shut her eyes and a moment later, she felt Claire lifting her up again, then slowly lowered her onto a soft cloak spread across the grass. 

“...It may be cold for a moment. I’ll work as swiftly as I can.”

“Don’t…” Galena coughed and blood dribbled down her chin, “bother…”

Whether Claire heard her or not, she began dipping the scraps of Galena’s shift into the river and washing Galena’s skin. Slowly, she pulled the crusted blood from her wounds and wiped away the ash and dirt from the scales on her side. Galena thought to command Claire to let her go and leave here where she lay, but the effort of speaking was too much for her to manage. She resigned herself to Claire’s care, at least for the time being.

_ She’ll need to pull the arrows through,  _ Galena thought,  _ And she likely only has high proof spirits to disinfect, if even that. It’ll hurt like hellfire… _

Galena snorted out a laugh and promptly cringed from the pain in her chest. Claire said something desperate, fussing over her and supporting her head to make her more comfortable, but Galena could hardly focus on her words.

_ Perhaps it will kill me when she pushes the arrows through to take them out… ah, if only I were so lucky. _

Claire held Galena upright and knelt against her as she continued washing the blood around each arrow. As she cleaned Galena’s back and carefully washed the leaves and dirt from her hair, Galena glanced down at the churning water beside them and searched for her own face. She wasn’t as pale as she expected and the gash she felt on her ear looked little more than a scratch, though it was hard to make out any details for certain in the coursing water. All things considered, she thought, things hadn’t turned out as terribly as she imagined; then she saw her horns, the black of her eyes, and the deep red scales climbing across her neck. If the pain wasn’t enough to convince her, that sight was more than enough to confirm that all of this, somehow, was inescapably real.

 

* * *

 

 

Three years ago, King Brunello of Camaraou had sent a battalion of soldiers to meet with the mayor and farmers of a small village along the Kingdom’s border. The rains had come late that year and the farmers requested the mercy of a delay in their tithing, a request which the King had granted twice before during his rule. That day, however, the King took to the field himself and spoke with a kindly, understanding smile.

“ItThen it seems that we cannot rely on the rains to feed our people, can we? We can only rely on ourselves.” And with that, King Brunello stabbed the Mayor through his gut and cut it open wide, spilling his blood across the ground.

“Surely,” he called out to the farmers, “there is enough blood within you all to water these fields and feed our Kingdom.”

Each day that followed, Brunello’s cruelty grew and both the subjects and the Court of Camaraou lived in waking terror, fearful that the King would one day slaughter them for the slightest offense. Galena, then only the Princess, confronted her father and demanded his repentance, and that he make penance to the people of the land. For her objections, she was locked in the East Tower of the palace and given a single straw bed, a single cotton blanket, and a single lady-in-waiting to bring her meals.

For three years Galena plotted and planned to escape and overthrow her father—and then one morning those plans became irrelevant. In defiance of the King’s tyranny, a group of citizens banded together with the royal guard and the few knights who were more loyal to the Kingdom than its Crown. Within days, almost every soldier abandoned the palace and left the King intentionally defenseless. He was captured, beheaded, and his body burned in the capital square that once bore his name. That same day, as her father’s head rolled across the throne room floor, Knight-Captain Marselan picked up the bloody crown and placed it in Galena’s hands. She could still remember the surreal abruptness of it all as she sat on her father’s throne, and her certainty that the Kingdom’s wounds would finally begin to heal. 

Pain like lightning raked across Galena’s ribs as the first arrow pierced her back. She might have screamed, though by then her ears were ringing so loudly that she could hear the arrows snap.

“Nngh! Damn…”

“I’m sorry,” Claire quickly pressed a pad of gauze over the now clear and open wound as she tossed the broken arrow aside, “I’ll move more carefully with the next.”

Galena grabbed her hand, squeezing it until the strength left her fingers. Claire squeezed back, though gently and restrained.

“Just…” Galena panted, “Do it quickly. I don’t care how much it hurts. Just hurry.”

Claire opened her mouth, but she stayed quiet. After bowing her head, she adjusted her grip again to get a better hold of Galena—a hand across her hips and holding her upright against the current, another supporting her side and preparing to push another arrow through her skin.

Around the time Galena felt the second arrow snap, her vision went black and she tasted blood dripping into her mouth. She spat into the river. Claire asked if she was alright. Galena may have grunted something in reply. Soon another burning pain pierced her back as the last arrowhead broke through her skin and Claire pulled it out clean. All of Galena’s body was reduced to the ache of those three wounds and the firm pressure of Claire holding her in place.

“Your Majesty… I’m sorry.”

Claire’s voice was so delicate, Galena could barely hear her over the river. She shifted her hands again to hold Galena more gently and keep the pressure off of her side, all the while keeping her head bowed and her eyes low.

“It’s fine…” Galena said, panting and watching the river run past her, “it didn’t hurt as much as you might think.”

That was a lie, but Galena couldn’t stand to see Claire feeling guilt over her. She tried to turn her head and grin, but her lips twisted up in a painful grimace and she failed miserably. Then she felt Claire holding her tighter, wrapping her arms further around and bowing her head against Galena’s back.

“I’m sorry. Had I been with you instead of with that caravan—“

“Stop.” Galena sighed. “Had you been with me they’d have locked you up, or worse. You’ve already saved me once before; I don’t want you dying just to try it again.”

Claire glanced away and then closed her eyes calmly.

“I would do so gladly if—“

“I forbid it.”

Galena coughed and wheezed, but she didn’t yield.

“I forbid you to die for me, Clairette. Is that understood?”

Claire’s face twisted up and her voice was ill at ease, but nevertheless she conceded.

“Very well, Your Majesty.”

“…good.” Galena finally let the tension out of her shoulders.

For a quiet while Claire returned to cleaning Galena’s wounds, washing the dirt and muck from the scrapes along her skin and pulling the thorns from her hair. At some point Galena had the presence of mind to wonder why Claire hadn’t been shocked to see her horns and tail; Galena herself had certainly been stunned into silence when she found out just that morning that she had a demon’s blood in her. Perhaps Claire had been alarmed, in a moment when Galena was too nearly unconscious to notice?

_ Although, _ Galena thought,  _ if there were anyone to take this in stride, it would be Claire. _

After a time, both of them realized that Claire had just been washing the same patches of skin over and over, almost in an absent-minded circle as if she were smoothing over a crease in silk sheets. She carefully lifted Galena onto the shore again and laid her on a broad, woolen cloak. The former Queen’s shift and surcoat were in tatters and the river had turned her petticoat into a tangled mash of bustled lace that would likely never be functional again. As Galena slowly filled her lungs with air and winced as her ribs shifted, she watched Claire prepare a salve out of the corner of her eye.

“When you are well enough,” Claire said, testing a drop of the salve against her own skin, “I will contact the Knight-Captain for aid and perhaps we can stay in the winter palace until you recover.”

Galena laughed, or at least she tried to laugh while a sound like a boar’s grunt issued from her throat.

“That’s not likely to do us any good. Two of those arrows in my side were from Marselan herself.”

At that, Claire’s face sank and for the first time that day, Galena saw her truly at a loss.

“That… no…” Claire’s voice fell and splintered, “Even the Knight-Captain? Why…”

Galena coughed and her lips spread into a wry grin.

“As it happens, my grandmother was a high demon. I gather there’s more to it than that, but I learned of it this morning at about the same time Marselan and the rest of the Royal Guard heard the news. I don’t imagine,” Galena coughed sharply and gasped for breath, “…that they were keen on having another demon on the throne after what my father did to them.”

Claire shook her head. “But she swore an oath! She promised her loyalty to you! And then she tried to kill you because you’ve a tail!?”

“Enough, Claire…” Galena sighed, “I will not blame her. She never swore her fealty to a demon.”

“No, she swore her loyalty to  _ you, _ ” Claire leaned over and took Galena’s hand, holding it firmly, “The same as I have. Were you a dragon or a wolf or a spider I’d stand by you still. What would my bond mean if it were so fragile?”

“Claire…” Galena tried to lift her hand, to admonish Claire somehow and tell her that she had no obligations to serve a Queen who had lost her crown, but she didn’t have the will. When she met Claire’s eyes and saw the desperation there, Galena lost every thought in her mind. She turned back to face the sky and after a long moment, she looked aside. As much as she would rather be left in the forest where she lied, she couldn’t stand to hear that soft pang in Claire’s voice. She decided to offer up a distraction.

“We still need to disinfect the wounds.”

“Oh!” Claire quickly snapped to attention and sifted through her satchel for a flask of clear spirits, “Yes, I apologize. I’ll dress the wounds presently. I am sorry in advance for the pain this will cause.”

“It’s fine,” Galena said, wheezing slightly, “just get it over wi— AH!”

The spirits poured over raw wounds and she swore it burned like molten steel. She might have fallen unconscious momentarily, though the pain made it hard to be certain; whatever the case, she thought back to the events of that morning, and she realized that sometimes the difference between a nightmare and a memory was only the safety of knowing that nightmares weren’t real.

“Your Majesty,” Marselan had called, early after dawn that morning, “The leader of the citizen militia requests an audience. She insisted on seeing you right away, but—”

Galena hadn’t hesitated, “Of course,” she said, “Airen has done a great deal for us all. I won’t force her to wait.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Knight-Captain bowed. “She has arrived with several villagers of the former Duchy of Albarossa… will that be a problem?”

Claire tensed at Galena’s side, but Galena herself saw no cause to worry.

“No, I’ll meet with them presently.”

“Your Majesty…” Claire carried a note on her voice that Galena knew as a sign of caution, and perhaps a bit of clumsy fondness. Galena sighed and smiled, placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“I’m sure it has little to do with the late Duke; I doubt any of his people feel any lingering loyalties to that man.”

Claire still wavered on edge.

“But if they are- Your Majesty, the Duke tried to kill you.”

Galena shrugged. “And you protected me.”

“But if any of them still harbor the Duke’s will, they may have wished him to take the throne instead and if so—”

“Claire.”

The Knight-Captain stamped her scabbard onto the stone floor and glowered.

“Though your loyalty is appreciated,” Marselan said, “You would do well to defer to Her Majesty’s decisions.”

Claire glanced aside, clearly stifling a protest. In that moment, at least, Galena remembered very clearly fighting to hold back her laughter; though she didn’t mean to laugh at Claire, the sight of her standing there bashful and impatient, a full head taller than Marselan and with a far more imposing silhouette, was mildly endearing to say the least.

“I apologize,” Claire said, letting her hand slip away from the pommel of her sword, “Your Majesty, it is as you wish.”

“Good,” Galena grinned, “then, if you would, please accompany me, Claire.”

Claire bowed. “Of course.”

“Your Majesty, if I may…” Marselan interrupted as Galena took a step toward the hall, “Claire’s suspicions may not be entirely unfounded, even if not in the manner she suspects.”

Galena’s brow arched up. “Oh?”

Marselan bowed slightly. “Your Majesty, Claire killed Albarossa. Though it was in defense of Your Majesty, the Duke still died by her hand. While I’ve heard no rumor of enmity toward you over his death, I could not say the same for Claire. It is not impossible that members of the Duke’s family might still be among the villagers and they may yet harbor ill will.”

Galena took a moment to consider and closed her eyes.

“Very well. What do you propose?”

“Claire,” the Knight-Captain began, “You could ride in escort of the caravans leaving the capital for Verdesse and the western villages. There is little threat of banditry and the trip should take the lesser part of a day, but it would see you far from the palace should anyone demand her punishment.”

Galena nodded. “Yes, and in the meantime, should any such call arise I can address it directly. Claire?”

“I-” Claire took a breath and calmed herself, bowing deeply, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” Galena said, “And take care.”

The Knight-Captain bowed and left the room without remark. Within minutes, Galena sat on her father’s throne and greeted the hero of the recent uprising. Airen was scarcely tall or young or charming—she had once been a blacksmith in a small village until the day King Brunello sent soldiers to collect their tithings. Airen fought the soldiers off on her own and the town had celebrated her as a hero. Within weeks, she was swept up in the calls for revolution that rose across the Kingdom. Even knowing all of that, Galena found it hard to believe that this woman was the one who had finally cut her father’s head from his shoulders. It was almost even harder for her to believe just how grateful she was for his death… almost.

As Airen approached the throne, Galena took stock of the citizens who accompanied her; three men who seemed, at a glance, to be farmer, an elderly woman, and a slight man nearly Galena’s age with a heavy sheaf of papers folded in his arms and pressed against his chest. Had she known what those papers might reveal, Galena might not have entered the room with such calm and abandon. Then again, as she told herself, even if she had known she would never have believed it to be true.

“Airen,” Galena smiled and rose as soon as she approached, “Please, approach.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Airen nodded and she led her party to the foot of the stairs, just two yards from the throne.

“Those with me today are citizens from Albarossa… er, the former Duchy’s… area.”

Galena smiled. Airen wasn’t particularly accustomed to speaking in Court, though she made an admirable effort.

“Anyhow, they wanted to thank you, first,” Airen said, “for giving them the Duke’s estate and dividing up his wealth, and things.”

Galena nodded slightly. “I hardly need thanks for returning what was stolen from the people in the first place. It is the Crown’s responsibility to repair the damage my father and his dukes wreaked upon us all.”

“Yes, but still,” Airen glanced aside, something straining her voice like a music box forced to turn too quickly, “Thank you. Because of that, we were able to look through the Duke’s accounts and ledgers.”

Galena’s eyes went wide and she suppressed a smile. “That’s wonderful news! His ledgers may help us track the treasures and tithes he stole and secreted away these past three years.”

“Ah, yes,” Airen nodded awkwardly, “That they may, but that isn’t particularly what we found.”

Airen motioned toward the man with the sheaf of papers and he stepped forward with more than a little hesitation.

“Ah, y-you see, Your Majesty,” he bowed, his hands trembling slightly, “We were reading t-through the Duke’s ledgers and we found that he had- he’d been- that is—”

Airen interrupted, “Duke Albarossa had been planning to oust Brunello on his own so that he could take the crown.”

Galena nodded. “That would have been in his character, without question. He even tried to kill me shortly after my father’s death, after all. Fortunate that he did not succeed, is it not?”

She waited and watched the faces of all those before her, studying each expression for the slightest hint of any animosity or spite that might arise at the mention of the Duke’s death. She saw none, and in what she now thought was the greatest moment of foolishness in her life, she took that as a sign of safety. When Galena let her shoulders relax, Airen continued.

“The Duke had some papers—not his own, but things he’d taken from the royal scribes over the years—” Airen’s face twisted uneasily, “and it seems the Duke had plans to raise his own rebellion against the late king by claiming that Brunello was born of a High Demon.”

Galena barely even blinked. “Well, it would have hardly taken much to convince anyone of that, given his cruelty.”

“Yes,” Airen said, “and it would have been a simple case to make, because it happens to be true.”

The air seemed to crack and Galena felt as if her lungs were filled with frost. Two members of the royal guard at her side moved forward, their hands gripped tight around their pikes.

“Preposterous!” The senior guard stepped down to block Airen from the Queen, but Galena motioned him away.

“Airen,” Galena held her in a heavy gaze. “Explain.”

Airen didn’t flinch.

“Your grandmother, the late Lady Gremory, was a High Demon,” she said, so plainly that Galena could barely react. Airen pulled a few pages from the sheaf and handed them to Marselan for inspection.

“Albarossa found record of the contract signed between Gremory and your grandfather, an exchange of blood for power and unwavering devotion. The Duke believed that this was how Queen Gremory was able to drive out the northern invasions so easily, and also why so many young girls were made to work in the palace only to never return…”

By then, Galena’s brow had creased and she felt her nerves splintering like old timber.

“...I won’t deny her cruelty, nor my father’s, but I must ask again,” Galena took a breath to steady herself, “Why do you raise this point, Airen?”

“I raise it,” Airen said, her voice still sharp and level, “because it means that Brunello shared that demon’s blood. That blood was the root of his tyranny… and that also means that you, too, are the child of a demon and that blood lives on in you.”

Silence followed as Airen’s words crashed against the walls. The royal guards held their ground but Galena could see their feet shift uneasily. She clenched her fists tight, though only to keep them from shaking.

“Again, I will not deny my family’s cruelty, but I am  _ not _ my father and regardless of what blood he may have borne, his viciousness was of his own design.”

The villagers with Airen glanced aside, unwilling to meet the Queen’s eyes while Airen, still holding firm, took another step toward her.

“The Duke found record of a charm which your family has used to hide your demonic features since your grandmother’s reign. The jewels in your crown and the pendant you wear—he believed these things made you look as human as any of us. If your blood is no cause for alarm then why would you hide your true face in that way?”

At that, Galena snorted. “Now you truly are being preposterous. I was without a crown for years and I take it off each night, I believe I would know if I had horns or a tail!”

“And your pendant?”

Galena’s breath caught in her throat. “...What of it?”

Airen glanced at the gleaming, amber gem that rested in the center of Galena’s chest.

“I’ve heard that you’re never without it, even when you’re asleep.”

Galena scowled. “Because it is the only keepsake I have of my late mother.”

The elderly woman with Airen approached the steps.

“She died giving birth to you, didn’t she?” she said, her voice creaking and low, “I worked in the palace at the time and as soon as we heard you crying through the halls, they sent every one of us away. Every attendant, forbidden from tending to your mother until three days later, and when we were finally permitted... “ the old woman’s eyes wrinkled shut, a trace of nostalgia in her voice, “I still remember hearing the news as the ladies-in-waiting whispered in the halls. It was so tragic. Queen Fortana had been so young… but this is why she died. Humans cannot survive the birth of a demon child.”

“Enough!”

Galena pushed her way past her guards and clutched her pendant.

“This is absurd. Duke Albarossa was a scoundrel and a cur and my father was a cruel and evil man of his own will and not because of his blood, and if this is what it takes to prove that to you then so be it!”

With a swift snap, Galena pulled the pendant from her neck and the chain that held it broke and fell on the floor. As she dropped the pendant in Airen’s hand, she heard her guards gasp.

The floors and columns of the throne room were carved from dark stone and there were no mirrors in sight, but even without them Galena saw what had left everyone else in shock. Sharp bones parted the hair on her scalp, hard scales covered the skin on her neck and her sides, and beneath her dress a thin, spindly tail flicked back and forth, beyond her control.

Clattering steel echoed through the chamber as one of the royal guards dropped his pike and backed against the nearest wall. His partner remained, turning her pike to face Galena as she stood staggering, her trembling fingers touching the horns on her head with as much dread as disbelief. Her heart raced and her pulse throbbed against her skull, and for what seemed like an endless moment her mind went blankshe could barely even think. Then she felt the hands clasped around her wrists, and her arms were wrenched behind her back.

“Marselan…?” Galena stared in gaping awe, her arms too limp to resist as her own Knight-Captain bound her hands with a leather cord.

“Marselan, why? I didn’t—”

The Knight-Captain didn’t answer, but her eyes were cold as stone. Galena already knew, far better than most, that no one there in that throne room was willing to risk their families to the whim of another tyrant.

“I swear to you,” Galena said, hanging her head, “I never knew. I was never told. Not for a single moment-”

“Don’t speak,” Airen glowered,her voice crackling like embers. “We’re not here to let another member of your family manipulate us, not for another day.”

“Then I’ll step down,” Galena said. “If you do not trust me to rule then I will give up the crown.”

Airen turned to leave and the rest of the room followed her as Marselan dragged the Queen along.

“Your crown is already forfeit,” Marselan whispered as they marched through the palace halls, “and now the people need to know the truth.”

Everything after that moment swirled together in Galena’s memory like a palette of paint smeared with pitch. Once they crossed the palace threshold she started to resist, but by then Marselan and Airen were joined by most all of the knights in garrison, along with a majority of the royal guard. Those who didn’t stand with them simply stood by, watching as the demon queen flailed and pleaded her innocence.

For some number of hours, she was held in the city square as a guard stood at her side and slowly lowered the crown onto her head, then removed it to show the people her transformation. Just past noon, the royal guard raised a stake on a makeshift stage and Galena soon found herself at the center of her own funeral pyre. She thrashed and screamed as piles of kindling and tinder burned around her. Looking back, she wasn’t entirely sure how she had summoned the strength to break the cord that bound her wrists. Looking back, she wasn’t even sure why she had bothered. Whatever mix of terror and desperation drove her, she threw herself from the stage and ran.

The first arrow didn’t slow her but the second sent her stumbling and the third knocked her clear onto her side. From there, she could only piece together memories of the forest, scenes out of time and with nothing to tie them together. The next coherent thought she could hold in her mind came to her as she saw Claire raising her from the mud. She thought at that moment, without doubt or reservation,

_ I should have burned. _

 

* * *

 

“ Your Majesty, I apologize for the poor quality of dress but—”

“Stop.” Galena leaned against Claire as they walked slowly along a forest trail, Galena now wearing one of Claire’s simple tunics and a pair of her trousers stained with grass and clay. Her tail, refusing to cooperate for even a moment, was flitting about through a hole Galena had torn beneath the waistband.

“Are you feeling faint again?” Claire held Galena’s arms and supported her gently. “Please allow me to carry you, Your Majesty. You shouldn’t be walking so soon and—”

“No, not walking,” Galena huffed and drew a painful breath. “Stop calling me ‘Your Majesty.’ I told you, I’ve been deposed.”

Claire’s brow furrowed. “Illegitimately.”

Galena laughed through a cough. “If they tried to give me the crown back now I wouldn’t take it, so it hardly matters. If you need a better reason, then think of how quickly Marselan and the Royal Guard would find me and string me up for execution if you keep announcing me in public.”

“I—” Claire’s mouth hung open, but she couldn’t argue against that reasoning. She didn’t hate the idea of calling the Queen by her name, but she couldn’t stand the thought of denying that she was still Her Majesty.  She didn’t deserve to have her crown and title stripped away so swiftly and for such a petty reason, at least in Claire’s judgment. Still, because Her Majesty insisted, she would not disobey.

“Galena…”

“There!” Galena smiled for the first time since morning, snickering to herself, “It’s not that hard, you know. You don’t have to keep that pained and puzzled look on your face.”

“I’m not—” Claire wrinkled up her nose and then steadied herself, “I’ve no such expression.”

“You did very much,” Galena said, “and it reminded me of the times when I would chance upon you practicing swordplay with that broken twig when we were children.”

Claire cleared her throat.

“It is not my preference to conceal your station, but for the sake of your safety and because you wish it, I will call you as you will.”

“Truly?”

Claire nodded. “I would not say such a thing were I unwilling.”

Galena grinned. “Then call me Gally, the way you did before you joined the order.”

A prickling sort of warmth crept across Claire’s neck as she remembered a scene from her youth. She had scarcely been nine years of age when she happened across a pretty girl in the city gardens. In truth, she hadn’t even known Galena was a princess at the time and had called her ‘Gally’ without a second’s thought. She felt a certain fondness whenever she called Galena by that name, but it had been years since they’d spoken so casually. Claire wasn’t sure her heart could take it.

“Very well, then,” Claire stopped where she stood and looked down at her Queen, her lips struggling against her voice, “Gally.”

Galena nearly doubled over laughing and she had to hold the gauze against her side. She spat a bit of blood from her mouth but in spite of that, she was grinning wide.

“You’ve such a look of astonishment on your face, Claire. Is it so odd to call me by name?”

It wasn’t, and in fact it was so natural that Claire had to rein herself in each time she formed the syllables on her tongue. Seldom did she admit, even to herself, that she spoke the Queen’s name to herself between sighs in her chambers or the corridor outside of the palace garrison. It was even more seldom that she acknowledged the fondness that accompanied those whispers.

_ It’s hardly appropriate _ , Claire scolded herself,  _ and I need to be far more careful than that if I’m to call Her Majesty by name so often and so directly. _

“My apologies,” Claire said finally, when she felt she was reasonably able to hold her voice steady, “Gally…”

“Very good!” Galena leaned against Claire and wrapped an arm around her neck. “Then with that matter addressed, I believe I will avail myself of your offer to carry me, for the time being.”

Claire hesitated as she placed an arm around Galena’s waist. She chided herself, determined not to show any sign that her hands moved reverently rather than with any clinical precision. 

“You’re quite a bit more forward than usual.” Claire said, lifting Galena in her arms.

Galena paused to think for a moment. “True enough. Perhaps lying so close to death has made me giddy. Or perhaps it is merely knowing that I’ve no longer any obligation to keep my appointments with the Baron Pinot about his plans for a cantilevered cattle pulley.”

Claire could scarcely stop herself from snickering. “That… sounds like a profoundly ill-fated device.”

“Indeed. But Claire, you could scarcely raise a case against me,” Galena said with a grin, “You had me in your arms but an hour ago, after stripping off my shift and all of my undergarments.”

Claire tripped over nothing at all and she nearly toppled, stumbling to find her balance again. When she was certain Galena wouldn’t fall from her grip, Claire looked her in the eye and stammered out all the broken pieces of thoughts that tangled in her mind.

“Your Majesty, I swear, I only did such a thing— I mean, Gally,“ Claire took a breath, her skin already flushed, “that was strictly in order that I might remove the arrows and beyond that I would never have considered it even for the slightest breadth of a second had circumstances allowed, and-“—”

“Peace, my Clairette.” Galena smiled softly, “I did not mean to accuse you. I suffered injury neither from your hands nor your eyes, particularly since I was the one who insisted you cut my shift away in the first place. I’ve voiced my complaints, and your care is not among them.”

Claire took a step and then considered Galena’s words again. She paused another moment and then carried on, slowly and carefully moving through the forest.

“…Do you truly still wish that I had left you there?”

Galena leaned her head back and looked through the boughs of the trees.

“I suppose it’s too soon to say. In that moment, when you found me, I was certain that I wanted to be left for dead. Rather, I was certain I would have rather died when Marselan shot me. Since then there have been moments in which I felt glad that to be yet breathing, and moments when I wished I’d never tried to escape when I was set to burn in the city square. I don’t know…”

Galena shut her eyes and tucked her head close against Claire’s chest.

“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll feel a single way about things in time. As it is now, I can hardly tell where the next hour will find me…”

Without realizing, Claire had tightened her grip and she was holding Galena closer. As they left the forest trail and found their way to a quiet road, Claire let her hands relax and she searched for some form of distraction.

“We should seek an inn,” Claire said at last, “If we can rely on neither the Order nor the Royal Guard, then we may need to hide, or else flee. In either case, I believe it best if we plan after we’ve had a meal and a night’s rest.”

“I agree.” Galena closed her eyes again to think, “In either case, at present I would like nothing more than a pillow and a loaf of honeyed bread. We’ll need to be inconspicuous, though… Claire, let me down a moment.”

Claire lowered Galena gently, still holding her by the waist and supporting most of her weight.

“Are you certain?” Claire asked. “I am not yet weary.”

Galena blinked. “If I knew you any less, I’d swear that you lie. You’re the only woman I know who could ride half a day then run through a whole forest without stopping even for a breath.”

“Is that not expected?” Claire looked sincerely baffled, “All knights in service to Your— that is, all knights of the Order should be able to do as much if the need arose.”

“Somehow,” Galena said with the faintest trace of a grin, “I think you may be the only one of the Order who would, even under better circumstances.”

For as often as it happened, Claire still wasn’t entirely accustomed to such compliments. In the first place, she had always credited her height and size for most of her alleged capability and neither of those were skills she had gained through training. Even her parents, whoever they might have been, could hardly have decided that she would become a gigantic horse of a girl. While she was the tallest knight in the Order and blessed with a strong and sturdy frame, she always felt odd when members of the nobility pointed that out as a compliment. The only exception, of course, was Galena; whenever she praised Claire for her strength or endurance or her accomplishments, it always felt sincere, as if she was saying ‘Because it is you,’ rather than ‘Because you’re so tall!’ or ‘Because you’ve such broad shoulders!” Claire was grateful, though it seemed to her a silly reason to feel gratitude.

“Your cloak,” Galena said for the second time, snapping Claire out of her wonderings, “The one you laid by the river’s shore. Do you still have it?”

“What? Oh,” Claire shook her head quickly. “Yes, of course.”

She dug through her satchel and pulled the rumpled cloak out, holding it up for Galena’s inspection.

“Good, this will do.” Galena wrapped the cloak around herself and fastened its clasp, pulling the hood up over her horns. “We’ll need to be as inconspicuous as we can if we’re to appear in public…”

“Of course.” Claire bowed her head, but a firm hand pressed back against her forehead.

“…which means none of that,” Galena sighed, gently pushing Claire’s head back upright, “It would do no good for you to call me Gally only to bow in front of everyone. We will arrive as traveling companions, and traveling companions do not bow obediently to one another at the slightest request.”

“That…” Claire steeled her nerves, forcing herself not to bow again, “will be difficult, but I will do as you wish.”

Galena snorted and snickered at her again. Claire cleared her throat and pointed down the road.

“There should be a traveler’s inn near bend in the road up ahead.”

“Very good,” Galena said, “then let us go.”

The roadside inn, named The Sleeping Boar for the owner’s drowsy potbellied pet, was just crowded enough to provide anonymity while still affording them an open room. Claire had to use the better half of her coin purse to secure the single, small room though it was, by all accounts, a luxury compared to the forest hollow. After a quick exchange with the tavernkeep she had two plates of bread and stew in hand, along with two pints of small ale.

The room itself seemed little more than an empty storage closet fitted with a bed, a single stool, and a wobbling nightstand. At the very least, the bed seemed reasonably soft. While the two of them finished their meals, Claire thought nothing of the room’s single bed; it was only afterward, when Galena began to yawn, that she understood the gravity of their present conditions.

“Your— Gally,” Claire caught herself, “We should check your bandages. I may need to change them before we settle in for the evening.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Galena rose from her seat with some effort and held her side as she hobbled over to the bed, sitting first and then slowly lowering herself onto her back. She breathed slowly and deliberately, all her concentration seemingly set on keeping her hands steady at her sides. Gingerly, Claire pulled Galena’s tunic up from the waist and raised it just enough to see blood-stained fabric wrapped around her ribs. She moved her fingers carefully, both to avoid causing pain and to keep her own hands from lingering on Galena’s skin. Claire chided herself again and narrowed her focus to the patches of gauze, taking great pains to ignore the curve of Galena’s back or the line of her hips as she changed the dressing on her wounds.

When Claire was sufficiently satisfied that all the bleeding had stopped, for the moment, and that a healing salve was properly fixed to every scrap and cut on Galena’s body, she stood back and turned away.

“I believe your wounds should heal in time,” Claire said towards the wall, “So long as you can rest.”

Claire moved mechanically, pulling off what armor she still wore and dressing down to her undershirt and trousers. Behind her, Galena yawned again, cut off sharply by a painful gasp.

“I’m not entirely certain I believe that, but regardless… Thank you, Claire.”

A biting warmth gripped the back of Claire’s neck and she fiddling needlessly with a button on her shirt.

“You hardly need thank me. I have merely followed my oath, and my dressings are far from skillful.”

“Claire…” 

Galena sounded impatient, or at the least agitated enough that Claire could feel her gaze.

“I thank you because I am grateful,” she said, glowering as Claire turned back to face her, “Please do not make my gratitude seem frivolous by casting your aid as something trite.”

“Ah, yes,” Claire half bowed and then stopped herself, rising with a bashful trace of a smile, “I’ll take greater care in the future.”

Galena sighed and her head sank into the room’s only pillow. Galena said nothing, but Claire couldn’t keep herself from feeling as if she’d disappointed her in some way. To keep her mind away from such thoughts she busied herself unfurling a bedroll, packing her spare clothing into the rough form of a lumpy pillow, and preparing to turn in for the night. When she stood again to check the lock on their door, she found Galena leaning up on her elbows and glaring in bewilderment.

“Claire, what in the Lady’s name are you doing?”

Claire looked between her bedroll and her Queen, entirely at a loss.

“I’ve prepared for bed… should I not?”

“Claire, don’t be so stubborn,” Galena said, glaring sternly, “There’s hardly space on the floor for you to sit let alone stretch your legs, and if we’re to travel any distance you’ll need rest as much as I do. We’ll share the bed.”

Claire stammered. What was that sudden chill against her back? Was it sweat? The remnants of her fraying nerves? Her voice cracked at an odd angle and her eyes darted away.

“That wouldn’t be wise—I may roll or thrash about in my sleep.”

Galena shot a sidelong glance at her.

“I won’t order you if you’re insistent,” she said, “but you don’t need to make such excuses, unless of course your sleeping habits have changed drastically in recent months.”

They hadn’t, and Claire suddenly felt the fool for telling a lie so blatant. She could press the matter, of course, but she saw no point; Galena had already caught her. It was hardly a surprise, given that Claire had sometimes slept in Galena’s bed, particularly during the winter months when the fires burned low and the palace walls gathered frost. On more than one occasion King Brunello had dismissed Galena’s lady-in-waiting with little cause and less warning, leaving the then princess to fend for herself in the midst of a blizzard. For her safety and comfort, Claire stayed with her on those nights. It was her duty, and above all else a perfectly reasonable course of action. It didn’t matter that she was glad whenever Galena sent for her—the things she thought and the words she felt as they fell asleep beside one another were all entirely irrelevant

After stalling for another few moments, Claire finally sat at the end of the bed and heaved a weary sigh.

“Alright. It would make for a more sensible arrangement if we were attacked in the dead of night… I’ll sleep nearest the door.”

Galena nodded, barely concealing a smirk. “Agreed, though I think it may yet be too soon to expect assassins.”

“I—” Claire fumbled and nearly dropped her sword as she leaned it against a bedpost, “I have to be prepared for any peril that might befall you.”

Galena’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Do you, now?”

“... You’re teasing me,” Claire said as she carefully lifted Galena and shifted her to the far side of the bed.

“And I’m enjoying it a great deal,” Galena said happily, and then with a trace of bitterness on her voice, “though I wonder what has set me in such a mischievous mood… perhaps that is the effect of the demon’s blood in me.”

“You’ve hardly been devilish, and even if you had I’d still doubt that sincerely.” Claire said, propping the pillow up under Galena’s head. “If it is the case that you’ve had such blood all your life, I cannot see how it would only now lead you to mischief.”

Claire lowered herself onto the bed beside Galena, her feet still hanging over the edge and her head cushioned by her now packed bedroll and a small mound of spare linens. 

Galena glanced at the heap and raised a brow. “Is that even comfortable?”

Claire fluffed the lumpy pile. “It’s functional, in a sense.”

“Were I not injured,” Galena said, “I’d offer you the pillow in my stead so that we might both sleep comfortably.”

Claire blinked. “How? You’d not have a pillow for yourself.”

Galena’s eyes trailed down from Claire’s shoulders. 

“I could just as easily rest on your arm or against your chest.”

Claire felt her ears burning red at the thought of Galena curling up against her chest. She’d never been so glad for the tangled mess of her hair spilling over her shoulders as she was in that moment. 

She forced herself to keep her face steady. “Gally, please.”

“Save your worry, dearest knight,” Galena said, with the slightest lilt in her voice, “I think I may only pester you to distract myself from my weariness, but I will cease. Goodnight, Claire… and thank you.”

Galena smiled and Claire couldn’t keep herself from returning the gesture. She knew well enough that Galena was hiding something, but she also knew that there would be no sense in prying. With a soft stroke, Claire swept the hair from Galena’s face to check her temperature one last time before she pulled the blanket up around them both and snuffed the candle out for the night. 

“Claire…” Galena whispered across her pillow, “had you not found me, I would be dead by now.”

“I am only glad I was able to find you quickly,” Claire said, keeping her voice as low as she could, “though a doctor or healer would have made for a more helpful rescuer.”

“No.” Galena’s voice spilled from the dark and Claire felt the heat of it against her face, “I mean that, had it not been you there in that forest picking me out of the mud, I do not know that I would’ve allowed myself to be rescued. I was so certain that I would have rather been lain to rest where I fell, but then I saw you, and…”

She was quiet for a moment and Claire hesitated to speak. She moved closer, hoping to see if Galena had fallen asleep—instead,she found her queen’s gaze fixed on her, their faces mere inches apart. Galena smiled weakly.

“You are a mystery at times, Claire… I was so certain I’d be best given over to death, but as you’ve tended to me today, that certainty has faded. I don’t think such a thing would have happened if anyone else had found mewere it anyone else. Is that not strange?”

She yawned and then winced as her chest rose and stretched her wounds. Her breathing settled and she closed her eyes, leaving Claire staring and unable to speak. She had no idea how she could possibly have such an effect on anyone, but regardless of the reason, she was glad to hear Galena sounding more at ease. 

_ She deserves that much at the least, _ Claire thought,  _ and if I can give her a moment’s calm then my efforts will not be in vain. In truth though… she deserves much more than calm. _

Claire watched Galena’s chest rise and fall, at first paying careful attention to her wounds and ensuring that their bleeding had truly stopped and then later simply watching the soft motion of her skin rise and fall. Galena had always been like this, for as long as Claire had known her; a bit brash and sly, fiercely protective of the people of the Kingdom, kinder than she would ever let on and desperate to hold back the tide of her father’s cruelty. Over the years, as her father grew more violent and unpredictable, Galena had stretched herself thinner and thinner to guard what she could against his hand. She had never stopped, even after Brunello locked her in the East Tower, and every day that Claire saw her there she had looked weary and worn behind her smile. Claire wanted more than anything to give Galena a moment’s rest, to let her breathe without the threat of crisis or death hovering near. It was not her place, she knew, but there were times when she wished that she could do more than merely guard Galena’s life. 

In the still that followed, with the din of cicadas and crickets humming against the walls, Claire turned her head aside and watched Galena in the darkness. At first she told herself that she was watching to ensure that Her Majesty slept soundly, and then that she must keep watch to ensure that Her Majesty was able to breathe through the night. 

Eventually, she became too weary to provide herself pretext and she drifted off to sleep soon after midnight with her eyes still resting on Galena’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

Galena closed her eyes long before she was able to leave the waking world. Between the dull throbbing pain of her wounds and the strain of all that had happened, she found herself ill at ease. Perhaps, Galena thought, she could have simply told Claire that she wanted her near to calm her dread. In fact, she wasn’t particularly sure why she hadn’t done just that. There was a nagging whisper in the corner of her mind, something she might have noticed without issue on a day when she not been shot three times after nearly burning at the stake. 

Difficult thoughts were too much to manage, it seemed, and so Galena drifted into familiar memories instead. She recalled the last time she and Claire had shared a bed, over the winter when Galena was still confined to the East Tower of the palace. The King had accused Galena’s Lady-in-waiting of sending covert messages to the leaders of a conspiracy against the Crown, which was patently ridiculous. Galena had sent those messages herself and her Lady-in-Waiting had less than little to do with them. At least the girl was sent home and no longer forced to remain in the palace in the King’s presence, though that had been little consolation to her at the time. 

_ Ah, perhaps… father dismissed her merely to punish me? ThenNo, but then why would he not have— _ Galena stopped herself and sighed.  _ Trying to understand anything that man did is an exercise in exhaustion. _

There were kinder memories to weigh against the present, and Galena pulled them to the surface one after another, turning each one over and holding them close. 

The last time she had woken up with Claire beside her, the air was so chilled her breath froze on her lips. Claire hopped out of bed quickly to stoke the fire and then she returned, wrapping herself in a quilt and wrapping Galena in her arms to keep her warm. It was nice—and no matter how many times Galena recalled that moment, she never tired of the memory. She did,  however, feel a certain stinging regret that she couldn’t quite place. 

That day, and dozens upon dozens of others, she and Claire had lain side by side, some nights huddled close together against the cold, and others spread out with almost an arm’s length between them. Their fingers never intertwined, her hand never cradled Claire’s back, and even when Claire held her she made it abundantly clear that she did so because her oath demanded that Galena, then the Princess, stay warm through the night. Understandable, Galena thought, since that was the furthest rational extent of a knight’s calling. Understandable, and yet not at all what Galena wanted.

Was it because she had lost the Throne? Or because she was nearly killed? Or simply because they were now well and truly alone together without the eyes of the Kingdom upon them? Whatever the cause, that night Galena came to realize the wishes she’d held perhaps for years:

She wanted far more than just Claire’s sense of duty.

 

* * *

 

 

“Claire.”

“What is—mmgh—” 

A palm covered Claire’s mouth, and on instinct she grabbed the offending hand. When she realized it belonged to Galena, she relaxed her grip and her eyes darted around the room. She couldn’t see much, of course, given that Galena had pulled the blanket up over their heads. Galena leaned in close, whispering right into Claire’s ear.

“I heard someone at the door…” Galena lowered her hand slowly and pulled herself in closer against Claire.

“Stay here, I’ll take an—ooph!” 

As Claire tried to sit upright, Galena grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down, holding Claire’s face against her chest. It was as unexpectedly pleasant as it was distressing. Claire could hear Galena’s heart racing as quickly as she felt her own. 

“The Royal Guard? Or a lone hunter? Could you tell from their footsteps? How many do you think?”

“Hm?” Galena tilted her head with an innocent grin, “Oh no, it was just the tavernkeep’s husband asking if we had need of breakfast. 

Claire bolted upright, throwing the covers off of them both and gasping for breath.

“Gally… you nearly sent me into a panic. I nearly drew my sword!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Galena laughed, patting the bed and motioning for Claire to lie down again. “I would say that I’ve no thought as to what compelled me, but in truth it was your sleeping face. I just felt the urge to tease you again… this is becoming quite troublesome. I do apologize.” 

Claire’s brow creased. “Forgive my insufficient hearing; I cannot sense the remorse in your voice.”

The bed creaked and its frame popped as Claire threw her legs over the edge and shoved them into her boots. While she was lacing them she scanned the room and listened for noise in the hallway, just in case.

“Please don’t be upset, Claire,” Galena said, “I had no intention of alarming you.”

Claire turned back to face her, one hand on the bed as she glared. 

“You were nearly killed and your life is in peril! Please do not treat it so lightly.”

“Alright,” Galena flashed a defeated smile and shrugged, “I’ll refrain.”

Claire wasn’t satisfied with that. “We’ve a great distance to travel yet and we could cross paths with the Royal Guard at any point along the road. If they find us, I… I don’t know if I could stop them on my own.”

“Would it be so terrible if they finished the job?” Galena muttered wryly under her breath.

“Of course it would!”

Claire shouted, far louder than she realized; the air fell silent as her voice dripped down every wall. She averted her eyes, staring off at the baseboards across the room.

“Forgive me. I’ve spoken far too rudely and without thought…”

“Claire…” Galena pushed herself upright, flinching slightly and holding her side as she rose, “you’ve done nothing that begs forgiveness, and you’ve every right to anger.” She smiled kindly, with a trace of bitterness, “I’ve not valued my own life as highly as you have.”

A soft warmth rested beneath Claire’s hand and she realized that she’d reached out to stroke Galena’s cheek. She swept a stray hair away with her thumb and then let her hand fall away, returning to her side.

“If we are both at fault then let it be forgotten… only, please, Galena, trust that your life is essential. Even if you no longer wear the crown. Even if you had never worn it for a single day.”

“It may take more than a single day to convince me of such a thing,” Galena said, her voice still dry, “but I thank you, both for your care and for your passion.”

Claire’s face flushed bright and she turned away to don her armor. She spent the next several minutes fidgeting and fumbling with straps and gussets as she chided herself for her outburst. Despite what she’d said, Claire feltwas entirely certain that she should have been thrown into a dungeon for speaking to Her Majesty in such a way—yet she could not bring herself to regret her words. She firmly, desperately wished that Galena would not treat her own life so lightly. 

With her armor on, Claire looked back to Galena and found it difficult to meet her eyes. She turned back towards the door and pretended to fasten an already firmly tied sash.

“Are you wounds any less painful? I can change the bandages if needed.”

“I’m healing quickly,” Galena insisted, “or at least more quickly than I expected. I’ve not had the chance to be shot through the ribs with any great frequency so I cannot be certain.” She laughed dryly. “Perhaps it is the demon’s blood?”

There was a bitterness in the air and Claire wanted to temper it, but she couldn’t quite gather the words to reassure Galena then. She wasn’t even entirely certain that words could provide any comfort for her worries at all. 

“I cannot say,” Claire said after a time.

Galena stared at the wall; or rather through it, and towards some distant point of nothingness in the sky.

“Claire… if I am ever as cruel as my father, even for a moment, and for whatever reason…” She swallowed painfully and her voice trembled, “…then you must kill me. Do not allow me to carry his legacy, please…”

“I’d stop you before it came to that,” Claire said, her voice firm and fiery as she turned back and held Galena by the arms. “I would stop you, but there will be no need. You are neither your father nor his blood.”

Galena stared, her eyes wide and empty. Claire felt the skin on her back tense and she pulled her arms away, suddenly aware that she’d overstepped yet again. She lowered her head, quietly, and thought to apologize again, but she failed to find the words. She made to leave, but before she could go she found Galena’s arms around her neck, pulling her back. She didn’t resist and soon Galena wrapped her arms around Claire’s back and held her close.

“My Clairette,” she said, softly into Claire’s hair, “thank you.”

Claire wanted to hold her, too. She wanted to stroke the tangles of her hair again as she had the day before in the river, to smooth the worry on her cheeks, to kiss the tip of her ear... As ever, she wanted what was impermissible. 

“Gally, you shouldn’t move so quickly,” Claire said. “Your wounds could open again.”

Galena sighed. “Fine. I’ll allow you escape on those grounds,, but once I recover, expect my gratitude to fall upon you tenfold.”

Claire allowed herself the slightest smile. “That’s hardly necessary.”

“Gratitude is never  _ necessary _ ; that is why we express it. I mean it, Claire.” Galena looked at her, through her, and her voice fell as she took Claire’s hand. “Crown or no, and whether you are a knight or no, you are my dearest friend and I can never explain how grateful I am that you are here with me now.”

If she had heard those words in the palace halls, or at the foot of Galena’s throne, Claire would have screamed and fallen over dead where she knelt. Or perhaps, as she did there in the inn as she felt Galena squeeze her hand, she would have merely murmured something clumsy and scrambled to her feet.

“I— Yes. I am grateful you are here and safe as well.”

Galena smiled, a bit short and shallow. 

“Very well then. In the interest of remaining safe, and since we’ve no cause to stay here another night, shall we be off?”

“Yes,” Claire smiled, “without delay. Or rather, with a single delay.”

Galena tilted her head and raised a brow while Claire glanced aside.

“I need to fetch my horse.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I maintain that I am fully capable of walking at this speed and I’m not entirely in favor of this arrangement.”

Galena’s tail flicked out behind her and snapped against the side of Claire’s horse who in turn snorted and shook her mane. While Claire held the reins of her horse Chandelese, Galena road atop the dappled mare with a modest amount of discomfort and a generous heap of dread. Claire stroked Chandelese’s mane and led her forward.

“Riding will let you rest while we travel and it would be far better to ride away on horseback than chance running on foot if we’re attacked. Apart from all that, Chandelese is a noble creature and she absolutely adores you.”

Galena and Chandelese both glared sidelong at Claire, Galena’s eyes narrowing for a moment before she turned back to the road.

“So,” Galena asked, “to where might we be bound?”

“There are possibilities, but I would leave the final decision to you” Claire answered “My first thought was to make for the Duchy of Verdesse,or at the least the Duke’s estate.”

Galena stared blankly. “...To what end?”

“I-” Claire stopped mid-stride. “I thought he might yet be sympathetic, since he had been courting you…”

“Ha!” Galena laughed so loud a family of birds fled the trees nearby. “Not in the slightest. I rejected his advances just after I took the crown.”

“But he should yet be willing to help… would he not?”

Galena grinned. “He would not, or at least I would find it shocking if he even agreed to harbor us for a single night. I may have been a bit curt in my rejection…”

Claire looked on curiously. “In what manner?”

Galena closed her eyes and shrugged. “Only in the manner of conveying to him a very simple and immutable truth which for many months he declined to observe. In all honesty, Claire, have you ever known me to deny that I was a lesbian?”

Claire smiled and snickered to herself, leading Chandelese down the road. “I have not. I would have thought it widely available knowledge.”

“Indeed.” Galena nodded, “though I suppose he thought I might feel as if I needed to marry for the sake of producing an heir, which may well have come to pass in several years’ time but certainly not within days of my coronation!” She chuckled coarsely, then lowered her eyes and absently stroked Chandelse’s coat.

“That much, at least, will be a relief. Now that I’ve no obligations to raise an heir, I’ve no need to consider whether or not my chosen consort would be able to provide me with their noble seed.”

Galena snickered and shivered all at once as she said that, shaking her head to fling those words against the trees. She hadn’t particularly hated the Duke, nor would he have been a terrible choice had she been forced to marry for the sake of inheritance, but she also found no fondness in their conversations and she held no favor for his face. She glanced aside and noticed Claire’s shoulders fall. Was she disappointed? Or perhaps relieved? 

_ No, _ Galena told herself,  _ It may be a bit presumptuous to think that Claire would be relieved to hear that I’ve no prospects for marriage at present. Even if she were, she’s far too serious to feel at ease over the loss of a potential ally—at least, most likely. _

“So then, if not to Verdesse, then where?” Claire asked, staring at the crossroads up ahead.

Galena closed her eyes again to consider. From where they stood, they could reach the eastern border after a day of riding, three if Chandelese was to walk the entire way. They could also circle around the trade roads and depart north  from the port, though it would mean traveling another week within Camaraou, perhaps even more. For now, east would be the safest.

“We’ll head east toward Viognier. We may need to travel even further in time, but let’s make it across the border first.”

“Ah, yes,” Claire curled her lips in and her hand tightened on the reins, “that will be the quickest way.”

“Hm?” Galena tilted her head, “is something the matter?”

“No,” Claire said, obviously lying, “it’s no matter at all… but I suppose, along the way,” She took a cautious breath, “We’ll have to pass through Lakemont along the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

The village of Lakemont sat alongside neither a lake nor a mountain, nor even a pond or hill of any notable size. Its name had always been a mystery, though not a particularly intriguing one. Galena had visited Lakemont once in her youth and from that time, she remembered three of the village’s most prominent features: first, that it was one of the earliest village merchants and travelers encountered when they crossed the border into Camaraou; second, that the village was home to dozens of families from faraway lands; and third, that it was Claire’s hometown.

While Galena was used to seeing Claire stand out in a crowd, mostly owing to her considerable height, she wasn’t quite so accustomed to hearing every human in sight call out to Claire by name. The baker’s son, the courier, the tavernkeep and her wife, the fruit sellers, the blacksmith, the ferrier, and no fewer than six small children all rushed up to Claire and welcomed her home as she walked down Lakemont’s lone, dusty street. 

“Is this entirely safe?” Galena whispered as Claire lifted two children on one arm. She set the children down with a puzzled look.

“This? It’s perfectly safe. I can lift at least four children without much trouble.”

Galena grinned and laughed behind her hand. “I meant all of this attention. Marselan will likely find you suspect when you fail to report in. For that matter, did you even accompany the caravan to its destination?”

“No,” Claire said, “I turned back the moment I heard a crier riding past and shouting the news that you’d been deposed… but we should be safe here, so long as we don’t linger. Most everyone here is quite fond of you.”

“Or at least, they were,” Galena muttered.

“And likely  _ still are _ ,” Claire insisted. “Things are a bit different here than in the capital.”  

That much was certain, but Galena wasn’t convinced that the difference between the seat of the palace and a border village would be enough to ensure the villagers’ pitchforks stayed in their sheds. If they were to make for Viognier they would need supplies to last at least three days and stopping by a market square at a major port would likely see them both dead. With more than a little apprehension, Galena followed Claire through the village and toward a small cooper’s cottage tucked beneath a short cliff at the forest’s edge. 

“Claire…”

“Yes?”

Galena surveyed the cottage and studied the door, peeking in the front window and glancing across the yard. 

“This place… where are we, exactly?”

Claire’s face brightened.

“I wasn’t sure that you would remember, given the time that’s passed. This is my home. Or rather, my cottage. I always felt more at home in the palace barracks.”

Claire trudged onward toward the door while Galena held her ground.

“You’ve scarcely left the palace since you joined the order. Who lives here?”

Claire checked the door and rattled the handle a bit.

“No one,” Claire said, lifting the door slightly and guiding it out of its frame, “At least no one for any length of time. I’ve given the neighbors the key in the event that any travelers from Viognier need to take shelter for the night, but it’s been years since the village has seen anyone cross the border into Camaraou.”

Claire paused at the threshold and glanced back, her face stricken with sudden regret. Galena felt hollow for just a moment when she considered how many of the people of Viognier her father had slaughtered over the past three years. Hundreds? Thousands? Her father’s crimes were so prolific she heard of them in scraps and piecemeal, so it was impossible to know the true weight of what he’d done. It was very clear, however, that King Brunello had hunted and slaughtered the people of Viognier simply for being present in his Kingdom. By comparison, Galena was a single woman being hunted over the chance that she might carry out another such slaughter in the future. When she thought on it in that light, Airen and Marselan seemed entirely justified in wanting her dead. 

“It’s fine,” Galena said at last, moving past Claire and into the dim, dust-filled cottage, “Is there food here?”

“Nothing fresh. There may be a wheel of cheese stashed in the cupboards, but the neighbors usually furnish food for any traveler who stays the night here.”

Claire threw open a pair of cupboards and a small cloud of dust spilled over her face. After she sneezed and Galena laughed at her, Claire searched the cabinets again and found little else but more dust.

“I may need to visit the market.”

“Probably so,” Galena said, still amused, “and I doubt we’re in danger of discovery here, at least for the time being.”

While Claire brushed the dust from her nose, Galena meandered down the short hallway and peered into the bedchambers. There was a single bed, a single stool, and a single high window filled with milky glass, cracked slightly at its edge.

_ Has she truly never lived here? I know that she’s spent most all of her days at the palace, but this hardly looks as if she’s ever even set foot inside.  _ Galena looked around for some trace of belongings, some sign that Claire had ever spent time there in that cottage. She found none, save for the footprints Claire left in the dust in the moments since they entered. The emptiness in the cottage sat uneasily with Galena, as if she’d just placed a great weight on the tip of a spindle and it was teetering off balance. She shook her head out and returned to the hall.

“Claire, do you-”

“Oh, Claire!”

A stranger’s voice filled the entryway and Galena ducked back into the bedchamber. Peering around the doorframe, she watched as as two elderly men entered the house and Claire rushed to meet them. Claire moved entirely past them both and stood awkwardly with her back to the hall, likely to block Galena from their view, but she seemed to greet them warmly.

“Hello!” Claire said, trying to act casually and instead sounding incredibly, obviously forced. “Ser Roesler. Vilano. How does the day find you both?”

The taller of the two men spoke up.

“Fairly well, this past month, fairly well. My husband and I heard that you’d returned and we thought you might want a loaf of sunbread.”

“And this bushel of squash,” his husband added curtly, shoving a huge burlap sack full of knobby yellow vegetables into Claire’s arms, “Here.”

“O-oh, thank you so kindly!” Claire took the loaf and the bushel in one hand, her other still hovering over the hilt of her sword. “This is incredibly generous.”

“Well, we thought you might be traveling again,” Ser Roesler said, “and we had a thought that your cupboards might be bare, so we decided to share what we could.”

“Also I needed to get rid of all that squash,” Vilano scoffed, “so, enjoy that.”

“I certain will. Thank you for-” Claire paused abruptly, then softened her voice. “Thank you. Ser Roesler, would you happen to have a wheel of cheese and a cask of small ale I could trade for coin? I’ve at least a three day ride ahead of me with not a moment to delay; I’d planned to go to the market myself, but my horse needs to be reshod and I fear I’ve not the time for both.”

“Claire, keep your coin,” Ser Roesler said, the corners of his eyes cwrinkling as he smiled, “You’ve more need of it than we do and your help repairing our roof last summer was worth far more than we can offer.”

Vilano grumbled quietly, “Not that we couldn’t use the coin, of course.”

Claire smiled. “Of course. Thank you both, I’ll find a way to repay you for this kindness.”

“Speak nothing of it. Oh, and Claire,” Ser Roesler said as he and his husband turned to leave, “Arvine has been asking after you. I would say ‘as of late’ but in truth he’s never stopped asking since last autumn.” 

Ser Roesler chuckled and Galena could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. “If you’ve time before you must away on your business, you should stop by to see him. He’s grown quite a bit more handsome in the past year.”

Claire smiled politely and nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Ser Roesler.”

A quiet creaking followed the old men out of the cottage and soon Galena heard their footsteps shuffling through the tall grass in the yard. Claire stood in the open doorway for a moment longer, watching them leave and glancing through the trees before she finally pulled the front door shut. As soon as she did, she darted down the hall and burst into the bedroom so quickly, Galena had no time to back away. Claire stopped just short of barrelling into Galena, hovering close enough that Galena could feel the heat from Claire’s skin on her own. Time seemed to stammer and they both stood there petrified, staring one another in the eye, until at last Claire broke away and stepped back.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”

Galena shook her head. “You hardly could, with those pounding footsteps. Is all well?”

“Yes,” Claire nodded, though her eyes were still darting across the room and through every window, “those two are neighbors, I suppose something like uncles to me in a way. Their son Arvine is the town’s tailor. We could trust him, if you’d like more comfortable clothes for traveling, or a replacement for your dress.”

“No.” Galena answered almost before Claire could finish. “We’ve no time, unfortunately. Luxuries like that can wait until we’re safely in Viognier.”

That was a lie, and while Galena could rationalize it by citing their need for haste, that was hardly the reason she refused. She hated the heavy, hollow feeling of lying to Claire, but not asso much as she hated her jealousy toward a village tailor whom she’d never met. She wanted to divert the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Do you have the materialsto reshod Chandelese?” she asked.

“Ah,” Claire’s eyes drifted away and her lips twitched into an awkward grin, “That was a lie. Though it couldn’t hurt to stop by a ferrier within the week, I just didn’t want to leave you here alone or risk venturing out into the market if we could avoid it.”

“Oh… I see.” Galena nodded calmly, biting the tip of her tongue. “Then once we’ve food, is there any other place you may need to visit before we leave? If we’re to make for Viognier, you may not be able to return here within the season…”

“That is no matter,” Claire’s voice held no hesitation, “My duty is to ensure your safety and I will do so as best as I am able, for as long as I can, no matter where that might take us. If we must remain in Viognier for forty days or forty years, then I would do so gladly.”

Galena clenched her fist at her side., her arm straining. “...Of course.”

Of course Claire would say that. She’d sworn to do whatever it took to protect and serve the Queen and Claire was nothing if not forthright and loyal. As Claire left to water her horse, Galena paced through the empty cottage and wore a path through the dust from wall to wall. She knew that Claire would never abandon her and for longer than she could recall, that knowledge had always made her feel at least a little safer and more at ease. She knew that Claire would stand by her and take any measure to protect her, and for the longest time Galena felt nearly overcome when Claire knelt before her and said as much. She knew that Claire was far too steadfast and earnest to break her oath even if Galena commanded it, and knowing that, Galena hated herself more by the minute. 

For all the joy it brought her to have Claire near, Galena couldn’t stand to bind her any longer. By the time Claire returned, Galena’s mind was set.

 

* * *

 

 

The road to Viognier was guarded only by a single gatehouse staffed by four soldiers at the forest’s edge. While it had once been desolate, during King Brunello’s reign, his recent beheading served as an incredibly warm and effective welcome to artisans, immigrants, and merchants from all climes. Galena’s plan, insofar as she had managed to form it, was to stop by the gatehouse while the crowds were thick and the road was packed with impatient merchant caravans. Their fate would still be left largely to chance, but Galena reasoned that those conditions would give them the best possible chance of being ushered through to Viognier without incident. Those plans, as it happened, held for the lesser half of a minute.

As Claire approached the gatehouse on foot and Galena rode beside her, they worked their way into a small crowd of wagons and carts and traveler’s strapped with heavy packs and padlocked chests. Fading into the commotion at the border was simple, but as they slowly approached the gate, Claire and Galena realized that they had no chance of crossing over to Viognier. Posted hastily along both sides of the gatehouse, with more copies likely plastered across its interior, were notices of Galena’s demonic blood and her removal from the throne. Claire stepped aside and wove through the crowd to read the text scrawled below a sketch of Galena’s face, complete with jagged horns and dark scales across her neck.

“To all citizens, visitors, and knights of Camaraou! The former Queen Galena was found to have a demon’s blood, the self-same which tainted the tyrant Brunello! Upon confrontation with this truth, Galena fled and her whereabouts are unknown. The Royal Guard seeks information leading to her capture, or confirmation of her demise.

Take heed: It is possible that the former Queen may have one or more accomplices. Be on the lookout for any woman traveling in disguise, particularly with one or more companions. Send word to the nearest member of the royal guard or your local town watch should you see or hear of her presence.”

Claire fought her way through the crowd to rejoin Galena and by the time she made it back to her side, Galena had moved closer to study the notice herself. She looked down to Claire and they traded a moment’s alarm before calmly walking back through the crowd. They fell into step with the small procession of merchants who had just passed through the gatehouse from Viognier and were now heading toward Camaraou’s major ports and the capital city. At the first crossroads they encountered, Claire and Galena turned away from the caravans and headed down a narrow forest trail.

“They’ve moved more quickly than I expected…” Claire said finally, still checking over her shoulder to make sure they hadn’t been followed. “I apologize… I should have anticipated-”

“Claire, you’ve no fault to claim.” Galena pulled on Chandelese’s reins and guided her to a halt. She sighed, smiling at Claire in a soft and weary way that Claire knew very well. She didn’t know exactly what it meant, granted, but over the past decade she’d seen Galena smile that way whenever she felt particularly exasperated. Or perhaps confounded. COr perhaps confused? MaybeElse perhaps fond yet exhausted. It was all Claire could do to keep her mind clear and focused on the journey ahead, particularly with all that had happened over the past two days; she hadn’t the clarity for much else. This would’ve been the case regardless of who she traveled with, but traveling with Galena so closely and for so long placed a particular strain on her faculties.

Over the past several years Claire had grown increasingly conscious of the duties and obligations attached to the oath she had sworn to Galena. The more time she spent by Galena’s side, the more adamantly Claire reminded herself that she did so because she was the Queen’s knight; because she had sworn to protect and guard her, and because her bond and loyalty demanded it. The fact that she had always felt a certain gladness when Galena laughed, or that her pulse began racing when Galena touched her arm… those things were entirely irrelevant to her oath. At least, Claire told herself as much, mostly because she found that if she did not, the desire to reach for Galena’s hand, to pull her close and hold her for hours, would be far too strong to resist. 

“We should keep moving,” Claire said, finding it difficult to meet Galena’s eyes. “If the Royal Guard is posting notices, one of their number, or at the least a messenger, may be traveling these roads.”

“That seems likely.” Galena gently tapped her heel’s against Chandelese’s belly and she began walking alongside Claire. “We wouldn’t want to get- nnhh!” Galena grabbed her side and pressed tight against her aching rib.

“Gally!” 

Claire caught Galena as she began to slip from the saddle, steadying her first and then slowly taking her in her arms to set her down on her feet. As Galena stood, holding her side with one hand, Claire noticed a spot of blood seeping through her tunic.

“The wound’s opened again. We need to change your dressings.”

Galena closed her fingers and pressed tighter against her side. “It’s fine.”

“It is hardly  _ fine _ .”

“We’ve too much ground to cover to stop here.”

“Gally, please,” Claire felt a snag in her throat and her voice struggled to escape. “I will leave you be if you insist it, but please do not ask that of me.”

Galena’s brow creased, and she glanced away, closing her eyes and sighing.

“Very well. We can decide on another route while you work.”

“Of course.” Claire bowed slightly, and just when Galena was about to chide her for doing so on the open road, Claire scooped her up and carried her into the forest.

“C-Claire, you…” Galena turned her face away and stared off through the wood, “you need to give me more warning before you do such a thing.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “I-I apologize! I moved without thinking.”

“It’s fine,” Galena smiled, her voice somehow both fond and weathered, “you’ve apologized far too much already this day.”

While Chandelese wandered through the nearby ditch and grazed on the soft grass, Claire laid Galena down against the moss-covered crook of an old oak tree’s root. Galena raised her tunic, exposing her wounds and stopping just short of her chest. Fortunately, it seemed that two of the three wounds were healing well and only the third had opened again. Claire pulled gauze and salve from her satchel and began working over Galena’s skin as gently as possible. 

It was necessary, Claire told herself, and it was a perfectly normal part of her duties. What was not so normal or necessary, however, was her desire to sweep her fingers across Galena’s waist and gently lay a hand over her stomach. She caught her fingertips lingering a moment too long and she jerked her hand away, burying it in her satchel to search for some imaginary medicine to finish the dressing.

“We could likely ford the river to the north, then double back to Viognier through the other side of the wood,” Claire said at last, once again focusing on logistics to keep her mind clear, “but it may take us another evening to reach the shallowest part of the river. We may need to find shelter for the night.”

“...Yes, that is a sound plan,” Galena agreed easily, though with a jagged edge to her voice. “There should be a tavern along the road running north toward the nearest port. We can stop there for the evening and make for the crossing before dawn.”

“Agreed,” Claire said as she finished setting salve across Galena’s wound and binding it as tightly as was safe. “We should retire early this evening and leave before first light. Ah.” She looked to Galena and then away as she closed her satchel. “May I carry you again, onto the saddle?”

Galena let out the slightest chuckle and agreed. As Claire lifted her up, Galena put her arms around her knight’s neck for a moment and then allowed them to settle down around her shoulders. She traded a quick glance with Chandelese, Galena scowling as the horse snorted back at her, and then she settled back into the saddle and took the reins with one hand. Once they began moving again, Galena pressed a knuckle to her lip and thought.

“We should travel separately to the tavern, in that case,” Galena said finally. “Particularly seeing as the notices suggest I’m traveling with an accomplice. It will be far too suspicious if the two of us arrive together so we should enter the tavern separately, no less than an hour apart, and we can rejoin one another in the forest by morning.”

“But you would be alone!” Claire nearly shouted, lowering her voice at once but still failing to disguise her distress. “If you were attacked or captured while I was in a separate room, I’d not know until morning!”

“Then you’ll enter the tavern first,” Galena suggested calmly, “to ensure that there are no suspicious hunters or guards lying in wait, and once I’m safely in my room you can patrol the halls freely since no one would suspect a single knight of any dire ill. It is the safest approach.”

“That may be so, but…” Claire clenched her jaw and furrowed her brow, failing to find any argument she could raise that would not sound absurd. Her gut twisted itself into knots and her entire body seemed to reject the idea of separating, but she trusted Galena’s plan.

“Very well,” Claire said, “We will do that, then. If it is alright, I’ve a suggestion as well.”

“Go on,” Galena said.

“When we’re within sight of the tavern, I’ll approach first while you wait in the forest. When I’ve a room, I’ll signal three flashes of a lantern to show that the tavern is clear and safe for you to enter. If you see no signal, it will mean that the tavern isn’t safe, and I’ll return to you shortly.”

Galena barely considered it before she agreed.

“Very good. In that case,” she said, and then, with a keenness and weight that almost left Claire shivering, she turned and lowered her voice. “Farewell, Claire. I’ll be waiting for your signal.”

“Yes, of course,” Claire said, trying not to choke in the sudden lump caught in her throat, “let us hurry to the tavern then.”

 

* * *

 

 

The small roadside tavern held a fair number of vacant rooms, more than enough for both Claire and Galena to find lodging for the evening without arousing suspicion. In keeping with Galena’s plan, Claire divided the last of her coins between them, and Galena waited with Chandelese in a small thicket within sight of the tavern’s windows. Withfeet feeling heavy as stone, Claire dragged herself down the narrow road to the tavern and, with more than a little trepidation, stepped inside.

For all of her wariness and anxiety, the tavern was fairly quiet, filled with haggard merchants chatting quietly about the exchange rates of local currencies. The tavernkeep, a tiny woman with a coarse streak of silver running through her black hair, was curt but accommodating, and Claire got the key to her room without suffering any questions. Once she had the security of a locked door behind her, she lit the lantern in her room and raised it to the window, opening the lantern shutter three times to signal Galena. The sun had already set, by then and she watched Galena and Chandelese make their way to the road, then into the tavern’s shadow. She wandered back into the hall, watching the room below from over the railing. She listened in the hall for the sound of the tavern door and once she heard it open and Galena step inside, she sighed and returned to her room.

“Calm yourself, Claire,” she murmured as she paced. “Her plan is sound, there’s no danger in this tavern, and you’ll know if anyone suspicious passes through this hall.… You’ll carry out your duty, without fail.”

She took a deep breath and sat back onto the bed, flopping over onto her side. Her duty and her oath of fealty were perfectly clear, but she was too far gone now to fool anyone into thinking that it was her sense of duty that drove her to such lengths, least of all herself. She’d known for years, but she always believed that, so long as she could keep her heart hidden, it would cause no harm. Now she was almost certain that she could not manage even that. 

She squeezed the pillow around her head and hid her face, growling at herself and sounding very much like a muffled terrier. She wanted Galena to be safe. She wanted her to smile in that reckless, sly way she once had, before her father locked her in the palace tower. She wanted her to never be alone. Those were acceptable desires for a knight, Claire reasoned. Entirely acceptable. But then, if there was nothing unusual about it, why did she want so badly to be the one standing at Galena’s side? Why did her mind have to wander faster to the memory of Galena sleeping beside her than to thoughts of what route they should take through the forest to Viognier? 

Before all of this, and in fact for the better part of the past decade, Claire had always put such thoughts out of mind. Having such feelings for one’s Queen was not unheard of, but it was still improper for a knight sworn to her service. With time those feelings would fade, she thought, and then she could devote herself fully to the Queen as her knight with no complications whatsoever. As time wore on, however, it became harder and harder for Claire to keep herself from daydreaming about what a life with Galena might be like. 

Now lying there on that lumpy tavern bed, Claire knew that she could no longer pretend to act only as a knight sworn to the Crown. The thoughts she’d kept secret for years, the things she wished and wanted in the breaths before she fell asleep each night, even the gravity that drew her hand toward Galena in thoughtless moments, all of it was overflowing and Claire could not even pretend to contain it. 

“Gally is relying on me now,” she told herself sternly. “She has no one else to help her as she recovers… to tell her that I want such things when she has little choice but to stay with me or risk death on her own… I cannot cause her that distress.”

She sat upright, took a deep breath, and then slammed herself back against the pillow. She tried to breathe slowly and calm her heartbeat, but every moment that she spent that bed, she remembered waking up next to Galena earlier that morning with increasing clarity. Claire pulled the blanket over her head and she nearly screamed into the mattress. It was going to be a long, tiresome night.

 

Earlier, in a quiet grove near the river’s edge, Chandelese had been chewing on sweetgrass and field carrots after Galena dismounted to prop herself up between a smooth tree and a mossy rock. As she leaned back and sighed, Chandelese had reared her head and snorted.

“What?” Galena glowered at the horse, “Are you going to scold me now for lying to her?”

Chandelese snorted again and flicked her tail before wandering over to the river shore for a drink. As the evening clouds cleared and the sky opened, Galena leaned back against the tree and let her shoulders sink. 

_ More likely that I’ll scold myself, _ she thought. 

Given that Claire hadn’t followed her, she assumed that her plan had worked-when she approached the tavern, she lowered herself from the saddle with some difficulty and stood in the open doorway until she was certain Claire had seen her. She took only two steps inside and as soon as she saw Claire return to her room, Galena turned around and left. Reasonably certain that Claire would be focused solely on the tavern’s interior, Galena climbed back onto Chandelese, with some effort, and urged her to continue north toward the river crossing. They disappeared into the forest without incident and everything went as planned, save for the judgmental snorts Galena received from Chandelese. This was exactly what Galena wanted, and she hated it.

_ It’s better, though,  _ she told herself, wishing she could be more convincing.  _ Claire will stay with me no matter the hardship if I let her, and the problem is that I want to let her more than anything. I can’t though… I can’t keep taking advantage of her like this. _

It was one thing to rely on a knight in her service, particularly in dire circumstances that brought death close to bear. It was quite another to keep that knight by your side when you were being hunted, to insist that she remain with you and share your bed and tolerate your teasing flirtations all while you knew she was honor bound to never leave. It wasn’t fair. Galena wanted so badly to rely on Claire and lean against her, to sleep at her side and pull her close—and if she asked, she knew Claire would oblige her. She was loyal to a fault and a dear friend, and that was exactly why Galena had to leave. So much of Claire’s life had already been devoted to serving her Queen; so much that Claire had an empty cottage for a home and she’d scarcely spent a day in her hometown since joining the order of the August Knights.

_ I cannot justify my selfishness any longer… I’ve taken too much of her life as it is and I won’t keep her from it for another day. She may try to come after me… _ Galena sighed and slumped back against the tree. Sleep, she told herself, was what she needed. She would sleep, and before dawn, she would cross into Viognier alone. After that… she had no plans or direction. But if her disappearance would give Claire full rein over her own life, Galena was determined to do that much at the least.

 

* * *

 

 

Dawn crept through the musty tavern windows, sprawling out across Claire’s face and tickling her nose. As soon as the sunlight reached her eyes, she bolted upright so quickly she nearly fell out of bed. She rushed to dress herself and fasten her armor, fretting about how long she’d overslept. She scarcely waited for the tavernkeep to bid her farewell as she handed over her key and on her way out, Claire asked if she’d seen a woman in a cloak leave early in the morning. When the tavernkeep squinted and said she’d never rented a room to such a woman, Claire’s stomach dropped like a stone. She stumbled through the door sprinting into the forest and as her heels pounded against the ground.  

Galena wasn’t waiting in the thicket where she’d hid last evening. Nearly in a panic, she ran back to the tavern and searched inside again but Galena wasn’t waiting along the road or behind the stables or in any other nearby place. With every passing step, Claire felt more feverish and dizzy. 

_What a fool!_ _I spend the evening blushing into a pillow while Her Majesty was captured. She may be dead for my carelessness…_

Chandelese’s hoofprints led from the tavern back to the road, but once they crossed back onto the grass, Claire lost all trace of her. Galena could be anywhere within an evening’s ride; the immensity of that possibility stabbed Claire’s gut like a sharpened icicle. She ran without thought, concentrating on her breathing and her motions and anything but the thought that Galena might be lost to her forever. Sweat poured down her face and she ran to the only place she could think to go: the shallows of the Severnyl river where she and Galena had planned their crossing into Viognier. Perhaps Galena had to leave ahead and she’s waiting there? Perhaps, but Claire knew there was a simpler answer. 

Her muscles ached and burned with every step, and her coarse, dark hair stuck to her face in messy clumps. Along the way, her feet caught on a root and she stumbled down a short hill, landing on her hands and panting for breath. She fought to raise herself from the dirt but her body refused. Her heart was pounding, her ears rang and when she finally raised her head, her vision went black for a moment before returning. She stood to the sound of rushing water, stumbled down to the river bank, and nearly fell face first into the shore.

And there Claire found her; Galena stood in the shallow steppes of the river with water up to her shins, a salmon hanging from her hand by its gills. 

Galena stared up at her, astonished and frozen where she stood while the fish flapped in her grasp. Claire blinked twice and slowly moved towards the river.

“Gally… you’re here…” 

_ What a fool thing to say, of course she’s here! _ Claire thought.  _ Be more sensible! _

“That’s… an impressive fish.” Claire said, still panting and barely giving the salmon a second glance.

“Claire, how—” Galena shook her head. “Claire, please go back.”

“What? Why? We’re already here so there’s no sense in returning to the tavern.” Claire took a step further and stood at the water’s edge. Galena stepped back, feet still submerged.

“No, to Lakemont,” Galena said, her face hardening. “Go back. I’m heading into Viognier on my own.”

Claire stepped into the river, her boots settling against the smooth stones of the riverbed. 

“I cannot,” she said, “So long as you are going to Viognier I will be there with you.”

“Claire, stop this! I’m not your Queen anymore!” Galena’s voice cracked and her tail drooped into the water. “I will not take any more of your life for my own sake.”

“I’ve already given the whole of my life to you—I gave it to you when I swore my oath!” Claire took another step. “I won’t abandon you simply because you’re no longer Queen. I pledged my loyalty and I’ve no regrets.”

“I know!” Galena nearly screamed, “ _ I know, _ and that is why you must go back.”

“Gally…”

“Enough!” Galena flung the fish back behind her and onto the far bank. “If you’re still bound to my service, then I order you to return to Lakemont at once.” Her words were clear, but her voice quivered. “Find some reason other than oaths and loyalty if you plan to follow me.”

Claire tried to slow her racing heart as she stared at Galena, but her ears were pounding. She already knew that she would never abandon the oath she swore to Galena, no matter what the circumstance; there was only one option. She fought through the running water to stand in front of Galena without a moment’s pause. As she stood in the river and met Galena’s eyes, Claire’shands trembled. 

_ This is a terrible, disastrous idea, _ Claire thought, fairly certain she was about to say something profoundly foolish and which she could never take back. That certainty proved true.

“T-then what if,” Claire said, struggling to force the words past her lips, “what if my loyalty were from love?”

Galena’s jaw fell slack. 

“You…” Galena took Claire’s hand and squeezed it firmly. Claire jerked back.

“I apologize, that was improper. I should not have—”

“No.” Galena was breathing heavily, her eyes wide and her ears red. “Say it clearly. Tell me exactly what you mean, and if you spare any detail thinking it improper, I swear I’ll never forgive you. Tell me now.”

“I—” Claire suddenly felt her knees shake as Galena’s eyes fixed upon her own, her face intent and fiery and lovely beyond words. 

Claire blurted out the very first thing she felt.

“I want to kiss you.”

Galena’s eyes widened even further, and at last she grabbed Claire’s jaw in her hands, pulling her down and pressing their lips together.

“Then I expect you to do so promptly,” Galena said, pulling away and still gasping for breath. Claire’s face her dark skin flushing as she put her hands over Galena’s own.

“But you—you just kissed me, I—”

Galena was glaring firmly. “You know what I meantI meant what I said.”

Claire opened her mouth and immediately forgot the words she meant to form. She leaned down again, kissing Galena deeply and for longer than she intended. Or, perhaps, for a perfectly reasonable amount of time considering how many years she’d spent imagining what it might be like to kiss her beloved Queen. When she pulled away, she found Galena laughing softly and wiping the start of a tear from her eye.

“Gally! I—I’m sorry!”

“For what, you beautiful fool?” Galena said, stroking Claire’s cheek and grinning, “Did you think I would be angry? I suppose I am, though not at you. Not at you in the least, Claire.”

“No, I feel I must explain properly,” Claire said, her voice still shaking. “I—I know I would not be a suitable partner for you and it is presumptuous of me to say so, but—I love you. Please... I will accept your decision regardless, but please permit me to accompany you still. I’ve sworn my life to you and I have no intention of breaking that oath.”

She looked at Galena, her eyes pleading as she held Galena’s arm, her hands moving almost without her instruction. Galena’s eyes shifted between Claire’s face and her hands as her neck flushed red and her tail began to flick about in the water. 

“Claire, do you honestly believethat I have not loved you every morning since before you even knelt before me as my knight? You apologize and you may think yourself presumptuous, but I swear to you, Claire,” Galena squeezed her hand, her face determined and anxious and bright, “if you say you wouldn’t not be a suitable partner for me ever again, I will push you into the nearest body of water without hesitation.” 

“That—but—” Claire felt her lips twitch, trying and failing to keep a straight face. She was certain she looked absolutely absurd.

“B—but why?” Claire finally stammered, “I’m not— I only mean that… I’ve no expectation that my feelings be returned…”

“Oh holy Gods Claire! You still say that even after I’ve kissed you?” Galena grabbed her neck and kissed her again. When Claire pulled away, Galena stepped back and scowled fondly.

“Fine! You ridiculous woman!” How can you be so beautiful even when you’ve sweat dripping from your chin like a stableboy?”

Galena closed her eyes and took a deep breath before kneeling down on one knee, and taking Claire’s hand. Claire, for her part, nearly jumped in shock.

“W—What are you doing!? Gally, get up, you’re getting soaked!”

“Just wait a moment! I’m going to make my intentions painfully clear so that you stop spouting such nonsense. Listen to me, Claire,” Galena placed her hands in Claire’s palms, pausing for a breath and glancing aside nervously, “I’ve thought for the longest time that you were standing by me out of loyalty and obligation to your oath; that I was keeping you from your life and happiness for my own benefit… but, if this is the life you wish to live—”

“Yes!” Claire took Galena’s hands and nodded vigorously. “Without reservation.”

“Let me finish!” Galena laughed, pressing a kiss to Claire’s hands before meeting her eyes again.

“I, Galena Sercial Teoulier du Camaraou, in the presence of my knight and dearest friend, as well as her horse, swear and acknowledge my homage and fealty to you.”

Claire felt as if her spirit were about fly out of her. She tried to pull Galena up but her hands were suddenly weak and her arms went numb.

“G-Gally! What are you doing? You can’t—”

“Just wait a moment,” Galena huffed, pouting a bit. “I never interrupted you when you swore this to me. Please be patient.”

Claire tried to protest further but her voice withered on her tongue and she could only stare at Galena, beautiful and nearly divine as the water coursed around her. Claire almost felt as if she would fall into Galena’s eyes.

“As I was saying; to you, Claire, the rightful bearer of what love I have to bestow, I swear upon all honor that I will be by your side and at your service til death itself claims me, this world, or both. As you have sworn, so I will swear to sacrifice all that I have to defend all that you are, to defy any threat or injury to your person or your insufferably endearing face, to remain steadfast and loyal through all trial and hardship. I pledge myself without regrets—the whole of my life is yours.”

There was a single instant, the space between two breaths, where the world went dark and Claire was convinced  she would wake from this dream and find herself back in the palace barracks. The moment passed and instead, she found herself waking to see Galena leaning over her, her hair dripping wet and her eyes set in panic.

“Claire! Claire are you alright?”

Still disoriented and feeling as if her head was full of soap bubbles and cotton fluff, Claire blinked, and then leaned up to kiss Galena on the nose. She then reeled back, mortified, and Galena burst into laughter against her chest.

“You magnificent ox of a woman… you nearly made me scream.”

“...I apologize… I think? What happened?”

Galena hovered over Claire, bending down to kiss her lips and her chin and her forehead.

“You fainted the moment I finished telling you that I’d give you my life. I suppose in hindsight it’s endearing, though I was near certain you had died from shock. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to pull you from that river?”

Nearby, Chandelese snorted angrily.

“Fine,” Galena corrected herself, “Do you have any idea how hard it was for  _ Chandelese _ and I to pull you ashore?”

Claire patted the side of her head and she brushed the mess of her hair back.

“I apologize,” was all she could manage to say. When she finally had the strength to prop herself up, she saw Galena’s face and immediately had to look away for fear that she couldn’t stop herself from kissing Galena again.

“You… truly said all of that, didn’t you?” Claire said at last, her mind and heart lurching away from her as she remembered the sight of Galena kneeling before her. Galena grinned slyly as she watched Claire’s face.

“I did, and you promptly swooned, didn’t you?”

“Ah, well,” Claire laughed a bit awkwardly and she felt a tingling across her arms,“I suppose so. I truly was not expecting—What does this mean?”

“It means,” Galena said, rocking back onto her heels and then standing with some effort, “that we should likely discuss this further once we’re safely in Viognier.”

Galena reached down and offered Claire her hand. As Claire reached back to pull herself up, she suddenly recalled a scene from years ago in the palace gardens. Claire had climbed over a hedge to sneak in and see Galena one afternoon, though in her haste she hadn’t thought to look when she leapt down to the ground. She’d tumbled across the grass and landed on her hands, and when she looked up she saw Galena standing over her, laughing and holding out her hand. Claire remembered that moment so vividly, when she she knew she would become Galena’s knight; watching that unspeakably pretty girl laugh at her awkwardness and tend to her scraped knees, Claire could think of nothing she wanted more than to swear herself to that girl’s life.

Focused on the present again, Claire took Galena’s hand and pulled herself up, her armor and boots still sloshing wet.

“We may need to find a more secluded area to break before noon,” Claire said, smiling, “or rather, as soon as possible. I’m not sure how long I can stand walking around in dripping wet boots.”

Galena grinned. “As you wish, my Clairette. Let us go.”

Claire lifted Galena onto Chandelese, who snorted her irritation at their antics. Together they left the forests of Camaraou, their hands overlapping on the reins. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, every character except for Galena and Gremory are named after different kinds of wine grapes and/or European wine-growing regions.
> 
> Galena is a type of lead ore which often contains silver. I didn't really have a particular reason for choosing this name apart from the fact that I think it's pretty, though.
> 
> Gremory is the name of a demon cataloged in the Ars Goetia.
> 
> Galena also calls Claire "Clairette" at times, fondly and to tease her. Clairette is a variety of white wine grape, but also I think it's just really cute that Galena has a pet name for her like that (Thank you Izilen for this suggestion!)
> 
> For anyone curious, these two do in fact safely make it across the border and find a cozy seaside town to stay in for a while until Galena recovers. Unfortunately, they do not get up to any amount of strenuous physical activity for at least a month, since Galena still has to recover. They totally get married before the year is out though.


End file.
